


Changekin

by orphan_account



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Platonic Twincest, funny?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:33:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill Kaulitz is no ordinary superstar. He's got a story, and he's sharing it with the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Einführung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Einführung is German for Introduction

I am what is known as Changekin, Changeling to humans. I am of a species that is sent to the human world in exchange for their sick and dying children. My twin brother and I were given to a human mother, and she raised us as her own. This is the story of how, despite being the lowest of the low in the Underground, I somehow managed to have both worlds in the palm of my hand.  
Oh, you don't even know my name do you? Sorry, sometimes I forget that not everybody knows who I am. I'm Bill Kaulitz, and I'm the lead singer of the German band Tokio Hotel.


	2. Kindheit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever said growing up was easy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any tips please let me know ^_^ Also: Kindheit is German for Childhood.

Tom and I were raised as humans, so our early childhood was uneventful up until Year Seven. That was the year our teachers decided it would be “beneficial to our growth as students and individuals” to put Tom and I in separate classes.  
It was horrible. I woke up every day dreading the eight hours I had to send away from my other half. We didn’t even have the same lunch period. We became so desperate to be around each other that we began coordinating our trips to the bathroom, just to be able to chat for 5 minutes.  
I guess administration noticed that we were a little bit off, to say the least. We both got called down to guidance multiple times to talk about being antisocial and how important peer relationships were at our age.  
And so, to appease them, Tomi joined band, and I choir. We put up with the classes for the rest of Year Seven, but when we got our schedules for Year Eight, I knew Mutti must have pulled a couple strings because we were back together. We were ecstatic and actually did our chores for nearly two weeks straight as a thank you.  
During that horrible Year, Tomi and I created Black Question Mark. It began as a way for us to escape our mundane daily lives, but quickly became so much more when we realized the power music gave us over humans. We were master manipulators, emotional puppeteers. We made the crowds cry, laugh, dance, and once, on a truly awful day, we created a mosh pit.  
I developed a craving for that sense of control, of power. And of course my sweet big brother Tom indulged me endlessly. I got so power-drunk and overconfident that I actually convinced poor Tomi that it was a good idea for us to play a club in the Underground.  
There were a few things that I had conveniently forgotten.  
1\. We had never been to the Underground, and didn’t know where we were allowed and who would accept us.  
2\. We would be mature Changekin in the Underground, which is the Undead equivalent of a German in America circa 1940s.  
3\. We didn’t know how other Kin would react to our music. We knew of no one from the Underground besides ourselves.  
But still, Tom somehow managed to get a phone directory for the Underground. I was the one who called however, a club by the name of the Black Iris. The phone rang so long I almost hung up, but finally someone picked up.  
“H-hallo?” I stuttered nervously, trying desperately to calm my frantic heartbeat. “Erm, Ich bin Bill Kaulitz, und—“  
He interrupted me in some kind of hissing, ancient language that I miraculously understood. “Speak the tongue, boy, speak the tongue!”  
After a few confused seconds, I gathered my thoughts enough to reply, “Sorry, sorry. My name is Bill Kaulitz.” The silence on the other end boosted my confidence. “I’m calling about my band, Black Question Mark, playing the Black Iris.”  
And that was it. We got our first gig in the Underground. When I hung up, Tomi hugged me excitedly and we celebrated by going to our hometown of Magdeburg and bingeing on ice-cream and coffees.


	3. Untergrund

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entering the Underground for the first time is definitely not what Bill and Tom were expecting.

The manager of the Black Iris had also given us instructions on how to enter the Underground, being Changekin himself.  
“This is the place, ja?” Tom mused, stopping in front of an abandoned warehouse in the once-great business district of Magdeburg. He nervously adjusted the guitar slung over his shoulder. “Well, this is it.”  
Cautiously, we entered, the huge doors surprisingly silent and squeak-free. Obviously, it was a well-traveled place.  
“He said there was a trapdoor near the stairs,” Tom recalled.  
I sighed and got on my knees, running my fingers through the thin layer of dirt on the ground until they brushed against something incredibly cold.  
“Tom I found it!” I called to my twin, piercing the darkness with my pre-pubescent voice.  
He ran over silently and slipped off his guitar, placing it lovingly on the ground before joining me on the ground.  
“Well come on, open it,” I urged impatiently when he took his time running his long fingers over the ornate handle.  
He grumbled something about patience being a virtue, but obeyed all the same.  
With a good hard yank and a rusty groan, the door came open. A surprisingly thick cloud of dust rose, sending us both into a coughing fit. Maybe it wasn’t as well-traveled as I had originally thought.  
When the dust finally cleared, we both peered down into the entrance. It was glowing red, and fog had risen about halfway up the shaft, making it look like Hollywood’s version of Hell’s gate.  
“How do we get down there?” I wondered aloud. “Jump?”  
“You can if you want,” Tom snorted. “I’m not risking my guitar.”  
“I made a face at him before once again examining the entrance. “Hey look Tomi!” I pointed. “There’s a ladder!”  
He grinned, obviously relieved, though whether it was because I wouldn’t have to jump or he wouldn’t have to risk his precious Fender, I couldn’t be sure.  
I smiled back, then gingerly made my way down the rickety ladder. Tom watched for a second .  
“Come on, Tomi!” I called before he could over think it. He was deathly afraid of heights, I knew, but I also knew he would never disappoint me.  
As we descended into the fog, I realized it was actually water vapor.  
“Ugh, fuck, I hope this doesn’t mess with my hair,” I complained loudly, mostly to drive away my own irrational anxiety.  
Tom laughed but was cut off rather abruptly by my yelp as I tumbled off the ladder and onto solid ground.  
“Are you okay Bill?” he asked worriedly.  
“I’m fine,” I laughingly reassured him. “Just watch your step.”  
“I’m not a klutz like you,” he shot back, stepping off the ladder much more gracefully than I had.  
I pushed myself off the ground and brushed off my knees, trying to regain some of my dignity. When my black leather pants were as clean as they would get, I looked up.  
And felt my jaw drop. We had entered the entertainment district, and so all we saw were bright lights and people everywhere. It was incredible, every big city in the world all squeezed into one hundred mile area. It was Tokyo, Beijing, Moscow, London, Paris, Milan, New York, and Los Angeles, all thrown together in an incredible mix. To Tom and I, having grown up in Magdeburg and Loitsche, it was magical.  
Tom shook me from my reverie with a hand on the shoulder and a *look*. A look that said “We have to get out of here before anyone notices us. They don’t like our kin here.”  
We made our way through the district, making sure to stay in alleys and side streets, finally stopping at a rusted door with a fluorescent iris above it.  
Tom and I looked at each other for a second before nodding silently and knocking together.  
Almost immediately, a huge burly man that could snap Tom and I in half opened the door. I couldn’t help but stare. His tattoos were incredible. Not a single exposed appendage was free of the ink. The curls were all over him, and just as I was about to ask the artist’s name, he yanked Tom and I in by our shirts and slammed the door behind us.  
“They’re here Stephano!” he called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off us.  
Another man appeared this one much smaller but no less muscular and no less inked up. He grinned, revealing a sharp and dangerous smile.  
“Hello,” he beamed in that odd language. “You must be Bill and Tom Kaulitz. I’m Stephano.”  
We nodded, too frightened to speak.  
He laughed lightly and addressed the huge man who had retreated to the side of the room. “Thank you Gavin. That will be quite enough.”  
Gavin nodded and walked out silently.  
Stephano turned back to us. “You’re on after Red’s Reapers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some quick notes: Untergrund is German for Underground. Fender is a brand of guitar that is more affordable than Gibson. I'm a terrible writer. I'm American. And let me know if you have any suggestions to improve the story. Also, "Red's Reapers" is a little reference to Black Butler. <3


End file.
